


and the fire went wild

by notthebigspoon



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-15
Updated: 2012-08-15
Packaged: 2017-11-12 05:48:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/487402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belt's a wanton slut, Lopez is a dirty dirty man and Cain is, as is known by all, badass.</p><p>Title taken from Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and the fire went wild

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by and written for giantsmisfit over on tumblr because of a line in [ and as we lie beneath the stars, we realize how small we are](http://archiveofourown.org/works/486895). Enjoy bb.  
> Also some of the dialogue and description of Cainer from the second half comes from a conversation with [ crimsonkitty](www.archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonkitty). Thanks for the inspiration baby.

“Christ. Look at you...”

“Sc-screw looking. Supposed to be doing, nngh, something else.”

“You're right. I should be making you whimper. Making you plead. Making you beg.”

“I don't beg.”

“You will.”

It's not so much the words that make Brandon shudder, it's the way Javy says it, rough fingertips stroking feather light over Brandon's skin. The three thick fingers in him twist and push and Brandon arches his back, gasps, but he doesn't plead. Not yet. Maybe he won't at all. He doesn't want to give Lopez that satisfaction.

Well, not without earning it anyway.

He knows how he must look, knees sprawled wide and hips rolling into each slow push pull of Lopez's fingers inside him. He doesn't care. He bites his lip until he knows they're going to be split and swollen. His hips are grinding down, trying to get more, trying to make it hurt again. Javy clicks his tongue and grips Brandon's hip so hard it will surely bruise. Brandon can't stifle the moan.

“You get what I give you when I decide to give it to you. Unless you decide to ask for it nicely.”

“Fuck...”

“Ask me nicely. Thought you good ol' boys from Texas were supposed to be polite.”

“Javy...”

“Say it.”

“Please.”

Hard. Deep. Fast. Brandon feels like he can't breathe... he can't, Lopez is huge and every thrust drives all the breath out of Brandon's lungs. The only thing that stops the headboard from banging against the wall is the fact that Brandon is gripping it so hard his knuckles are whiting out and his knuckles are what's hitting the wall instead. There's a steady thump and it aches and he knows, knows, that his hands are going to be a mass of bruising tomorrow but all of it hurts too good for him to want it to stop.

Lopez is growling low in his throat, muttering steady stream of abuse under his breath about all the things he wants to do to Brandon, all the things that he wants to make Brandon do, ordering Brandon to just take it. And that's all it takes. Growled orders and rakes of fingernails and Brandon drops his head between his arms, letting slip sharp and keening moans as well as desperate pleas for more.

“Please...”

“Please what?”

“Touch me. Want you to touch me.”

Lopez makes a contemplative noise, loudly and obviously considering it and Brandon wants to sob in relief when a hand finally circles his cock, rough tugs in time with the flex of Lopez's cock ever deeper into Brandon's body. Brandon's close, so close but he feels like he's being held back, held hostage in his own body because he wants to come so so badly but he just can't.

“S'cause you're a good boy. Finally learning to do as you're told.” Lopez purrs. His nails scratch lightly at Brandon's shoulder before sinking in with a bit of pain. Lopez uses the grip to yank Brandon back ad he shoves in deep, growling for Brandon to do it, come, be a good boy. And Brandon does, he'll be a good boy, he'll do anything Lopez tells him to just so long as he can get more of this. Lopez's chest drapes over Brandon's back, groaning in Brandon's ear what a good little slut he is and coming with a grind of his hips.

When he pulls out, Brandon's body shakes and he collapses into a pile, face pressed into a pillow, whimpering. His body aches, he's sore, he's covered with stinging scratches. His knuckles are bruised and he thinks they might be swelling. He feels fucking fantastic. There's the hiss and scratch of a zipper, rough fingers carding through Brandon's hair and footsteps followed by the slam of a door as Lopez leaves.

Brandon feels dirty, used, perfect.

***

He's not up in the lineup today and that's a good thing. His entire body aches and he's covered with bites and scratches. He arrives as early as possible to change and thanks his stars for a chilly night in the Park, wearing a hoodie and gloves. He trades smirks with Lopez and bumps him with his shoulder before heading out to the dugout.

During the game he leans against the railing with his chin on his arms, watching the action with a pleased smile and enjoying the wind across his face. He shifts his weight when he feels someone stopping next to him. He rolls his head to the side and smiles lazily at Cain, wiggling his fingertips in greeting.

“Take your glove off.”

“... what?”

“C'mon.”

Brandon shrugs and pulls the gloves down enough to show his bruised knuckles. Cain takes his wrist and turns his hand this way and that, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he inspects the damage. He nods and releases Brandon's hand, watching as Brandon tugs the glove back on and straightens it up.

“Like it rough, huh?”

“Problem with that?”

“Are you happy?”

“Yes. I asked for it. I wanted it.”

“Taking care of yourself? Eating enough, sleeping enough?”

“Yes dad.”

“Okay then.”

Cain's arm wraps around Brandon's shoulders, pulling him in for a sideways hug and his hand thumps blindly against Brandon's head. Brandon's not a small guy either but that doesn't negate Cain's strength and the force of it actually makes Brandon's head spin a little. None of it's irritating, not even a little. Cain's not a mother hen... he's just Cain, strong and steady and there if you need him, keeping a careful distance if you don't.

“So who was it this time?”

“Cain.”

“Married. Straight. But thanks for the offer.”

“Cain.”

“S'okay. Already know it was Lopez.”

Brandon flinches. “Is it that obvious?”

“It's obvious that you don't know how to lock a door, which you should probably do when you're going to fuck at a party and moan loud enough to get the attention of people downstairs.”

“You saw us?”

“Mmhmm. You know how to take it.”

“... I'm going over there now. Don't talk to me again tonight.”

“Love you too kid.”


End file.
